TWO PONY SHOW

See... two ponies... now that's gait...
now that's prancing. They move

like dancers though they never touch.
Manes flutter like ribbons.

Heads never rock an inch from the mean.
If it were years ago, I could saddle up

the one, strap a carriage to them both.
Now I just watch tails swish,

flanks ripple, hooves rat-a-tat
like march band drummers.

But it's not unkind, this slide
from participant to spectator.

My proxy rides. My memory
tucks the strutting beast beneath me.

Eyes stand in for grip.
Stillness is no less a journey.

John Grey is an Australian born poet, playwright, musician. Latest book is What Else Is There from Main Street Rag. Recently in Cape Rock, Weber Studies, Writers Bloc and the Connecticut Review .

Email: John Grey

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